100 Rules for Surviving Life as Sebastian Moran
by SayAnythingGrace
Summary: This are mini fics based off of the rules created by tigerjaw. Her blog is a totally fantastic RP portrayal of Sebastian Moran. And so these are his rules. tada.
1. Chapter 1

_Rule Number One: Know who is in charge. _

"Shoot him now." Sebastian heard Jim's voice deep in his ear. It vibrated through his whole body, like he was the violin and Jim was the musician. And he knew it was true, too. He was the sniper, the man who got his hands dirty, and Jim was the master mind behind it all.

But Sebastian didn't shoot him.

He crouched down behind the gun, angling it just out the window, but he didn't pull the trigger. The street was full of pedestrians. Children were playing on the sidewalk just under the window. There was still a thread of moral thought that started in Sebastian's gut and made its way to his head.

While Jim Moriarty screamed in his ear to kill a man with everyone as witness, everything in Sebastian screamed no.

And then it was too late. Sebastian had succumbed to what every sniper dreaded, the innate human morality that he had been born with, but lost somewhere along the way.

"Dammit Sebastian." He heard Moriarty through the earpiece. He was almost happy they weren't in the same room. "You couldn't fucking do it. You couldn't kill one simple little man. One insignificant little man." Jim's voice berated him with an absolute _disgust. _

Sebastian stood and closed the window, drawing the curtain, while Jim went on and on in his ear. _You couldn't do it. You're not better than any sniper I've had before. Two weeks on the job, and you've already failed me. Special? Please. Your history makes up for nothing this time, Tiger. I'm going to _poach _you. _

Sebastian took the gun off the tripod and put it back in the case when he heard the door behind him open. He didn't bother turning around before he closed the case. When he finally stood up he could feel Jim's breath on his neck.

"Turn around, Sebastian." He whispered gravely against Sebastian's neck after laying a kiss there with his dry lips. Sebastian didn't know why Jim kissed him, but it gave him shivers of anticipation and a deep dread.

The moment Sebastian was facing Jim, he had the tip of a knife pressed into his stomach. He didn't withdraw, but instead he stood up a little taller and looked directly in to Jim's rage filled eyes.

"Why did you do it?" Jim asked, raising his eyebrows. His face was all cynical smiles and sharp teeth.

"The pedestrians, sir." Sebastian said quietly. "I didn't want anyone to see."

"Is worrying about the _pedestrians _your job, Sebastian?" Jim said, leaning closer with every word he spoke.

"No, sir."

"Then why did you do it?" Jim asked, his voice changing tones from dangerous to mocking in less than a syllable.

"I don't know, sir."

"Well, let me tell you what you're going to _do," _he spat out the last word and as a breath of hot air his Sebastian in the face, the tip of the knife pressed down a little harder. "You are going to go into the building. You are going to find that man. And you are going to kill him. Do you know how you're going to kill him, Sebastian?"

"No, sir."

"You are not going to shoot him. You are not going to stab him. You are going to kill him with your bare hands. And then," Jim smiled as if this next thought was really the showstopper. The thing that brought him most pleaser. "You are going to kill the man with your bare hands. Is that clear, _soldier_?"

"Yes, sir." Sebastian answered. "Absolutely."

"Go." Moriarty said, placing his lips on Sebastian's cheek. "Go get 'em, Tiger."

Sebastian was angry at himself on so many different levels. He was first angry that he didn't listen to orders. He'd only been under employment of Jim Moriarty for _three weeks, _and here he had already screwed up. He was surprise he wasn't dead, or worse.

He was also angry that he had let Jim work him like that. Get to him on so many different levels. Sebastian was supposed to be as strong as leather, and here he was letting a man's mocking kiss give him shivers.

It was clear this was a lesson on exactly who was in charge. And Jim Moriarty had practically screamed at him, _"HINT, HINT. IT'S ALWAYS JIM." _

Sebastian did not pause for a second when he walked in the building. He had scoped it out on the walk over, and there were so many windows it was like he could see directly through the walls.

The man he was looking for was on the second floor in an apartment, probably his own, by himself. It took Sebastian about ten seconds to pick the lock. He moved in the apartment silently.

The man was in his kitchen, opening cupboards and slamming drawers. Quite honestly, Sebastian didn't even know what was so important about him. Jim hadn't given him many details. All he knew was that there was something involving drugs.

Sebastian closed all the curtains on the windows in the front. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

There was no talking involved. Sebastian wanted to get in and get out. He was wearing a pair of leather gloves when he grabbed the man from behind.

The flesh felt soft under his fingers, and he felt the man struggle. He made fists out of this hands and waited until the man had turned blue, sunk to the floor, and stopped breathing.

He pressed two fingers to his neck and sighed in satisfaction. No pulse.

He let go and let the man slide gently to the floor. His eyes were open in the death stare of pure terror.

"Sorry, mate." Sebastian said, feeling no remorse and not even the thought to close the man's eyes and break his vacant stare.

Outside of the building there was a black car with very tinted windows. Sebastian stopped beside of it and watched a window roll down.

"He was easy." Jim said, looking at Sebastian through squinted eyes. "I don't want another fucking mistake like this, Sebastian Moran. I say kill, you kill. I saw drive. You drive. If I say jump, you better fucking jump as high as you can and bring me back a star."

"Yes, sir." Sebastian answered, pursing his lips and jutting out his jaw at the same time. It was not an attractive facial expression, but it was one of internal struggle. "I apologize, sir." He finally blurted. "I will never happen again."

"Jesus, that was a struggle for you." Jim breathed. "It sure as hell better not happen again. My apartment, tomorrow morning. 6 AM. Be there, Moran. And don't wear anything you wouldn't want getting dirty."

Jim rolled up the window and Sebastian stood there until the car was out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

_Rule Number Two: Don't ask questions. _

There were a few things in which Jim had always had in mind when he went out looking for employees. Some key traits he'd prefer a sniper to have if he had to spend all day with the man or woman (You could call Jim Moriarty a lot of bad things, but sexist wasn't one of them.).

When he hired Sebastian, he did so knowing that he had more than a few of the key traits he wanted. The first one, of course, was an excellent shot.

The second one was a quiet mouth.

Sebastian Moran was a man of few words. Jim liked this, he cherished this. he was notoriously well known for taking a snipers ear off if he didn't shut up on the job.

In fact, that only real sentences to come out of Sebastian's mouth were questions. Jim would never cease to admit that Sebastian wasn't the smarted tool in the shed. Sure, the man was _clever. _He was a fucking literary mastermind, always quoting pieces Jim had never bothered with under his breath.

And it was unbelievably sexy but that was beside the point.

Sebastian didn't even lack the common sense you'd find from somebody who asks too many questions. And it wasn't curiosity either, he always managed to ask the questions with a certain air of _disinterest. _

The problem was, he was so careful it made him _stupid. _The kind of stupid kids get tested for. The kind of stupid they administer anxiety medication for. The kind of stupid only a multi-talented genius could ever get away with.

The only kind of stupid a morbidly deranged and brilliant psychopath could ever get off on.

But those goddamn _questions. _

"Boss, what's in the fridge?"

"Sir, can I toss this out?"

"Can I text this number, sir?"

"The dark blue tie or the black one, boss?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sebastian!" Jim threw up his hands in a wild gesture of annoyance. Sebastian stood in front of him, about three feet away, holding up two different ties. The color variations between the two were next to nothing.

"Are they both that bad, then?" Sebastian asked, wincing a little at his words. He always sounded like such a pansy talking to Jim, but he'd rather be pansy then dead.

"I swear to God, you ask me another fucking question and I will literally rip your tongue off and shove it down your throat." Jim stood, throwing the paper he was reading to the floor. "You're clever enough, Sebastian. Answer your own petty questions."

He stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

_Rule Number Three: Watch your mouth. _

Sebastian was feeling a bit _testy. _It may have been working for a month side by side with a psychopath, it may have been that his medication was due for a refill and the pharmacist had refused to do it, it might have been that he had been functioning on less than three hours of sleep for about a week.

He didn't knock when he entered Jim's flat. He shut the door loudly behind him so Jim would know he was there.

"Sebastiaaaaan!" Jim sang from his bedroom. Sebastian couldn't help but roll his eyes. If the boss was in a good enough mood to _sing, _then it was going to be a tough day for him. Jim always liked to have more dead things when he was in a good mood.

"Here, boss." Sebastian muttered, leaning against the doorway of the bedroom. Jim had a suitcase open on his bed, and he was walking back and forth from his bed to his closet with various items of clothing. "Going somewhere?" Sebastian asked, raising one eyebrow.

"_We're _going to Russia!" Jim smiled, turning to Sebastian with a different colored shirt in each hand. "Which one?"

"Sorry, what?" Sebastian asked, standing up straight. God, he was not in the mood for Jim's games today.

He'd heard a lot of crazy things from Jim, but this had to be most crazy. All of the other things came in the job description, mostly having to do with killing people in ways that aren't traditional. He'd also almost been shot a couple of times by the man. But going to another country with him?

His mind had already been in overdrive, and he couldn't wrap himself around the thought.

"You, me, Russia." Jim spoke slowly, a sarcastic smile gracing his face. "Not excited?"

"Boss," Sebastian paused, "fucking Russia?"

"Fucking the whole countries a bit rough, Sebastian. Just me." Jim flashed him a genuine grin.

"_Christ." _Sebastian muttered. "I don't want to go."

"Tough." Jim shrugged. His good mood was quickly deteriorating as he watched his snipers face contort.

"Tough!" Sebastian through his arms in the air. "What if I don't go?"

"You'll go," Jim said shortly, "or I'll shoot you."

Sebastian turned himself away from Jim, a mistake he would only make this one time, before muttering, "_well, fuck you." _

"S'cuse me?" Jim was behind him, gripping the snipers arms behind his back, in a millisecond. His lips brushed against Sebastian's neck, he closed his eyes and braced himself for the shivers he just _couldn't fucking control. _"Hm." Jim chuckled quietly.

"I'm not going to fucking Russia." Sebastian muttered through clenched teeth. Jim pulled Sebastian's arms down a little bit, causing a little bit of pain. Sebastian was embarrassed. He was embarrassed at the situation, at the fact that he'd said no, at the fact that having Jim this closer definitely was a fucking _turn on_.

"Hm." Jim chuckled again, running his tongue lightly up the side of Sebastian's neck. Sebastian almost melted right there, collapsed on the ground in a puddle of mush.

"I don't…want to go." Sebastian said weakly. "It's fucking cold in Russia. It reminds me of my childhood. What's even there?"

"An account." Jim said, "a really important account. You'll go." Jim sunk his teeth into Sebastian's neck until he drew blood. Sebastian groaned a little bit and his head dropped forward. "And watch your fucking mouth, or you'll end up dead."


	4. Chapter 4

_(4) Never miss._

Jim had hired a new sniper specifically for the trip to Russia. It wasn't that he was replacing Sebastian, on the contrary, he hoped that he would help Sebastian. Jim was a busy man, and by default that made Sebastian a very busy man

But Sebastian didn't like him. First of all, his name was _Pencey. _He sounded like something out of a goddamn children's book. He was just different from Sebastian. He didn't have the hardened life that a sniper _should. _He grew up in a good home in some very rural state in America. He worked on a farm with his father and hunted a lot.

What really bothered Sebastian was that Pencey had hunted for _sport. _They had enough food, they had farm animals which they slaughtered. Pencey told stories, which he thought were fantastic recounts of brutal murder, which spoke nothing good about his character. Sebastian had poached for money, Pencey killed ducks and bears for sport and left them in the woods to rot. The contrast was, in Sebastian's opinion, fantastically relevant to their situation.

And he never stopped talking. Jim had allowed them to go on the first job in Russia, an easy one, alone. He had hoped it would instigate some kind of bonding between the two snipers. That they would come back from the job like Christians coming back from a retreat, happy and closer.

Sebastian had let Pencey take the reins on this one, but he was talking so much that he couldn't even concentrate. He was distracting _himself. _

"Jim's a cool guy." Pencey was saying, not looking at the street were his target was supposed to be passing any minute. he was instead looking down at his gun.

Which was in his lap, not actually pointed at anything.

"Cool." Sebastian answered dryly. Sebastian had heard the word _cool_ too many times to count in the last two days. And that damn American accent made it harder to stand.

"Yeah, yeah." Pencey said quietly. Sebastian felt sick to his stomach at just how meek this man actually was. And cool wasn't the word he'd ever use to describe Jim.

Cool in the way that he would no doubt inject ice cold water in to your veins if you did something wrong. But that would make you cool, and him hot with pride and happiness.

"You watching the street, mate?" Sebastian asked. They were on the first floor of some worn out warehouse building, crouching behind the broken glass window.

"Yeah_yeah._" Pencey said, angling his gun out the window.

Both Sebastian and Pencey had a mental image of the man they were looking for, but the images were very different. Sebastian's was clear, concise and _accurate. _Pencey's was distorted, and he couldn't really make it out for himself.

"That's him." Sebastian muttered, spotting the dark Russian they were looking for.

Pencey shuffled around hurriedly with his gun, adrenaline pumping. Something snapped inside of him and suddenly it was like he couldn't hold a gun. He didn't know how to shoot.

He haphazardly pointed the gun out the window and shot a bit at random.

Sebastian closed his eyes and turned away. _God this can't be happening. This isn't real life. _When Sebastian opened his eyes again Pencey was turned away from the window. His face was flushed red with embarrassment.

"You fucking missed, _mate." _Sebastian sneered. "One job. First job. You missed. Then you turned away. Do you even know where the man was going? How can we get him, now, eh?"

"I don't…I'm sorry." Pencey sputtered. "I don't know…what…can I do?"

"Well, nothing now." Sebastian shrugged, picking up his bag. "We're going to go back to the hotel. Jim is going to be there. He's going to know, he always knows. I'm going to tell him it was my fault."

"But it wasn't." Pencey said, closer to tears. "It was my fault. You can't…I won't let you…"

"He'll kill you," Sebastian said, "I have a chance."

The ride back to the hotel was blaringly silent. Too silent. Pencey was close to crying, still, and Sebastian was still thinking of reasons he hated the man. He was all talk. He hunted, yeah, yeah. Hunting farm animals and hunting people is a bit different.

Sebastian walked into the room first. Jim had seat himself in the hotel desk. He looked small in it, like he was drowning in the thick oak. Nevertheless, he still looked really goddamn dangerous and important.

"Sir?" Sebastian heard Pencey close the door behind them.

"Yes, Sebastian?" Jim said, without looking up. Sebastian knew that Jim had an idea of what happened. A very good idea. And he knew exactly what was going to come out of Sebastian's mouth next. There was no tricking Jim. No getting around him.

"I missed, sir."

Sebastian hated Pencey more in that moment than he had all day. He would lose his job for this. If Jim was in a bad mood, he would die for this.

"You're lying." Jim said lazily, finally looking up at them and leaning back. He folded his arms across his stomach and raised his eyebrows. "He missed." He nodded towards Pencey carelessly. "Very noble of you, Sebastian. I commend you."

He stood and walked around the desk, then leaning on the front of it.

"But you." he said to Pencey. "You were hired for a _reason._ Can you explain why you let Sebastian take the fall for you? You had to know I would have saw right through it. Sebastian is the best sniper I've ever had. He never misses, unless it's on purpose."

"I don't…he said…" Pencey's face was becoming red.

"_But Jim," _Jim made his voice higher, mocking. "_Sebastian said it would work out. He'd take the fall. I don't want to die." _He paused for a second, a smirk gracing his lips. "Dying!" He shouted. "Dying, Pencey, isn't as bad as you might think it is."

Sebastian stood there, hands clasped easily behind his back. he watched the exchange between Jim and Pencey with a little bit of relief. Sebastian knew his boss wouldn't allow him to jump in front of the bus at the cost of some not-so-decent American.

"Get out." Jim said, waving Pencey away. "Don't come back."

Pencey didn't need to be told twice. Just as he had his hand on the doorknob Jim called his name. He froze, hand in mid-air.

"I don't want to hear," Jim said, "that you've been telling _stories. _I'm not afraid to have you killed. And I'm sure Sebastian would be happy to do it."

"Yessir." Pencey said, before hightailing it out of there before he was eaten alive.

"Fucking Americans." Jim swore. "Looks like it's all you, Sebastian." He made his way back to his desk chair. "I tried." He sighed heavily and sat down. "Sebastian?"

"Yes, boss?"

"I know I don't have to tell you this," he said, picking up some papers and shuffling them around. "But never fucking miss."

AN: New title format! I think I like this one a lot better. Also, I apologize for typos in the first couple of chapter. There are pretty blatant issues with continuity and whatnot. I've fixed them in the word document and I'm going to replace the chapters with the "updated" versions when I get around to it. I don't know, just know that I'm aware of them but I'm too lazy to fix them because they're small and not super relevant to the story lines.


	5. Chapter 5

_(5) Always carry a weapon. _

Sebastian stood in Jim's sitting room, straight and stiff, per usual. He was wearing a newly pressed suit, straight out of Jim's closet. He was patiently waiting for his boss, who was dressing in his bedroom. He was always late, like it mattered. Nothing started until he was in the room, anyway.

The tie pin weighed heavily in his pocket. He was nervous about giving it to him, solely because Jim was a fashion _carnivore. _It wasn't a tie pin made for style, it was a tie pin custom made to double as a lethal weapon. He figured if he wanted to give Jim a gift, it would have to be one lacking in sentimentalities. One that seemed like it was just a necessary item for the man to own.

Jim went out into the sitting room, happy to see Sebastian. When had arrived early that morning, he handed the taller man a suit he had made for him. Custom fit and tailored to Sebastian's every muscle curve, making him look excruciatingly more attractive than usual.

Jim hummed appreciatively at Sebastian, raising his eyebrows. Sebastian gave him a tight smile, he was uncomfortable in such formal clothes, especially in front of his boss. He knew his boss was judging every single breath he took in that damn suit, and it took everything in him to wear it like a proud uniform.

"Nervous?" Jim asked, circling Sebastian like a shark. "You've got nothing to worry about, you've hardly got any lines." Sebastian swallowed and closed his eyes.

It was true, Jim would do most of the talking. It wasn't that Jim didn't believe Sebastian couldn't sound intelligent when talking to clients, it was that he wanted to keep Sebastian _mysterious. _

"I've got something for you." As soon as he said it, Jim leaned forward. He placed one hand flat on Sebastian's chest and the other slipped into his pocket. He felt Jim grab at the tie pin and pull it out. "Right, well, that's it."

"For me?" Jim smiled, like he hadn't already known it was in there. Like he hadn't already known that was what Sebastian was so nervous about.

"I had it made…it opens and a blade slides out." Sebastian rambled on quickly, hoping that if he spoke fast enough Jim would like it. "You know, you're always telling me to carry a weapon and I figured you may as well carry one, too. Because, you know if I'm not there one time and something happens to you I don't want to be responsible for not preparing, you."

Jim cut Sebastian off by pressing his lips firmly against the taller man's. Sebastian's eyes widened but he didn't move. When they finally separated, they were both a little out of breath.

"Ready, Tiger?" Jim asked, a little glint in his eye. He liked that nickname he had for Sebastian very much.

"Always ready, sir."


	6. Chapter 6

_(6)You don't say no to daddy. _

"Sebastian!" There was a loud, inconsistent knocking on the door to Sebastian's flat. The banging vibrated through the whole place, which wasn't that large to begin with. There was a small sitting room, adjoined with a kitchen, a small bathroom and a small bedroom. It wasn't very expensive, but between Sebastian's highly trained ears and the small square footage he could hear a pin drop from the opposite wall of the flat, wherever he was.

He rolled over in bed and pulled the covers of his head.

The knocking didn't cease.

"Sebastian, if you don't open this door I'll blow right through it!"

Sebastian groaned, pulling a pillow over his head. He knew Jim wasn't lying. He sat up and pushed the blankets off of him. It took him about fifteen seconds to tiredly limp to the front door.

In that time, though, Jim had shouted a number of obscene profanities that Sebastian would prefer to _never _hear come out of his mouth again.

He leaned his forehead against the door and closed his eyes.

"Who is it?" He asked flatly.

"You bastard, open the damn door."

Sebastian sighed and pulled the door open, stepping aside so Jim could come in. He stepped in and looked around.

"Anyone ever tell you, you live in a shithole, Sebastian?" Jim asked. Sebastian shut the door behind him.

"Only you, sir." Sebastian drawled, tired. "Boss, I…uh, don't mean to be rude, but you do know that it's nearly 3 AM, right?"

"How hostile, Sebastian." Jim answered, circling the room with his hands behind his back, reading the titles of the books strewn across the room. "You know, you're quite messy."

"I'm not messy," Sebastian argued. "I'm busy. There's a difference."

"I'm busy." Jim answered, glancing at Sebastian. "And I'm not messy."

_But you're also insane. _

Sebastian sighed and moved to the couch, collapsing down on it. He closed his eyes and for the first time was fully aware that Jim was staring at him. He could practically feel Jim's eyes burning a hole in his chest.

"Why are you staring at me?" Sebastian said evenly, without opening his eyes.

"I almost had no idea you had all those scars." Jim said, in that _tone _of his. It made the hairs on the back of Sebastian's neck stand up.

Sebastian opened his eyes to look at Jim, who was suddenly looming over him like a shadow. He was looking particularly domestic, in a t-shirt and jeans. Sebastian wasn't used to seeing him out of a suit.

Jim carefully sat down beside Sebastian, perching him at the edge of his sofa.

"I think I'm going to get you a new flat." Jim mused. "Really, it makes me uncomfortable to imagine you going home every night to a place like this."

"I like this flat." Sebastian argued, sitting up. "I'm the one living in it, I don't see how it matters that it makes you uncomfortable."

Jim stood and stretched, looking around. "It's just disgusting, Sebastian. Dark, dingy. Like you're living in a dungeon."

Sebastian stood to face Jim. He crossed his arms and glared. He wasn't sure what the hell had made him so suddenly _defiant. _

"I'm not moving." Sebastian argued. _And you can't make me. _

"You will do as I say." Jim answered, pressing close to Sebastian and giving him a stare. "If I don't want you living here, then you won't be."

"_I _like living here." Sebastian snapped. "That doesn't matter?"

Jim leaned forward and Sebastian knew what was coming. He grit his teeth, bracing himself for the worst. A stab in the stomach, something deep enough to send him to the hospital but not deep enough to kill him.

Jim stood up a little straight and pressed his face next Sebastian's so they were cheek to cheek, Jim's mouth close to Sebastian's ear.

"I'm sure you'll like living closer to me even more." He whispered, his breath tickling Sebastian's neck and making him shiver.

Sebastian resisted the very strong urge to say, _no. _

"I know the perfect place." He was talking in a low, smooth voice. Sebastian knew he was not to be lulled into the idea of safety, because that's what Jim used that voice for. On clients, targets, anyone who he needed favors for. But he was liable to blow up, start screaming, or pull a knife.

He pressed a hand to Sebastian's bare hip. Sebastian was on edge, unmoving and stiff. Very slowly Jim pressed his lips to Sebastian's neck and at the same time he used the tie pin Sebastian had given him to slice his hip.

Sebastian winced, but remained unmoving. Shying away would make it worse.

The wound wasn't that deep, a thin scratch about five inches long. Sebastian knew that it would definitely leave a scar.

Jim was the first one to back up. Sebastian rubbed his face with his hands before looking at Jim. Jim gave Sebastian a half smile, one that looked almost normal, before reached out and catching some of Sebastian's blood on his finger. Jim made sure to hold Sebastian's gaze as he brought it to his mouth, and licked it off pretty damn seductively.

"Christ," Sebastian shook his head. "Does everything come down to blood play with you, boss?"

"You don't say no to me, Sebastian." Jim answered slyly. "Understood?"

"_Yes sir." _


	7. Chapter 7

_(7) Keep your phone on you at all times_

Sebastian, I need you in early today. –JM

It takes exactly 13.5 minutes to get from your flat to mine. –JM

I gave you 15. –JM

Answer you phone. –JM

Moran. –JM

_1 Missed Call From: Boss, James Moriarty_

_1 New Voicemail _

What the fuck, Sebastian. –JM

I can't wait much longer. –JM

I swear, when I get a hold of you…-JM

_2 Missed Calls From: Boss, James Moriarty_

_2 New Voicemails_

Moran. –JM

Nearly a half hour now, what the hell are you doing? –JM

You better not be sleeping. –JM

Or fucking your pub leftovers from last night. –JM

Don't think I don't know where you go. –JM

_3 Missed Calls From: Boss, James Moriarty_

_4 Missed Calls From: Boss, James Moriarty_

_5 Missed Calls From: Boss, James Moriarty_

_3 New Voicemails_

Sebastian! –JM

_Sorry about that, boss. I run from 5:45 to 7 every morning. –SM_

Get the fuck over here. –JM

_Yes, sir. –SM_

Right now, Sebastian. This is really goddamn important. –JM

_Of course, sir. Getting in the car now. –SM_

And always carry your fucking phone. –JM

I don't want this happening again. –JM

_Of course, boss. –SM_

_It won't happen again. -SM_


End file.
